


Seasick

by Servena



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Seasickness, Sickfic, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: „I don’t get sea sick“, Jack said for the third time within the last fifteen minutes as he sat down heavily on the expensive couch.





	Seasick

„I don’t get seasick“, Jack said for the third time within the last fifteen minutes as he sat down heavily on the expensive couch.

Rose carefully closed the door behind them, rolling her eyes at his stubbornness. “For someone who doesn’t get seasick you look awfully pale, Mr. Dawson.”

She didn’t receive an answer to that. Instead, Jack groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as the ship leaned over again, confirming her suspicions.

Outside the storm howled, lashing the sea and throwing rain against the small windows of the suite. A number of smaller vessels around them had stopped to weather it, but the _Titanic_ plowed on, determined to reach New York in time. Her massive size protected her as her stern cut through the smaller waves, and instead of the erratic movements of a smaller ship, she climbed the big waves gracefully before slowly plunging back down on the other side.

Somehow, that made it worse instead of better.

She sat down next to him and after a moment of hesitation he leaned his head against her shoulder. “Poor Jack”, she said as she carded her fingers through his hair. It was damp with sweat and she could hear his breath going quicker than usual, fighting the inevitable.

“It’s unfair”, he complained as he leaned into her touch. “It’s not really the first ship I’ve been on, and it’s not the first storm either.”

“Well, Mr. Andrews told me that every ship moves differently”, she said.

He lifted his head to take a look at her. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked with concern.

“Don’t worry, I feel fine.” And then she added with a small grin: “I don’t get seasick.”

Jack pulled a face at that. “Well, that’s what I thought.” He sighed as he settled against her shoulder again. “I should go back. If they find me here…”

“Cal is in the lounge and my mother is playing Bridge with her dreadful friends. They won’t be here for hours.”

“Still”, he mumbled into her shoulder. “You might not want to see this.”

She frowned. “So what, you think I’ve never seen someone throw up?”

He glanced up at her. “Well, have you?”

She scrunched up her nose in the way he found so adorable as she thought about it. “Maybe not. Only myself when I was a kid”, she admitted then.

“See”, Jack said.

“But I’m not going to leave you alone in your misery”, she said firmly. “Actually, I have a much better idea.”

She took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom.

“That’s entirely inappropriate”, he mumbled as she motioned for him to sit on the bed.

“Oh, so now you worry about what’s appropriate?” she asked with a smile as she knelt down in front of him.

“What are you doing?” he asked in confusion, hands holding onto the edge of the bed.

“Making you comfortable”, she replied as she untied his shoes. Then she helped him out of his jacket.

“I feel like a child”, he complained sullenly.

“Well, I want you to feel better.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Lean back.”

He sank back onto the mattress. “It’s so soft”, he sighed. “So that’s how you folks of the first class sleep. Like being in heaven.”

“And you can marvel at the thought that you’re only the second person to ever lie in it”, she said as she walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

But she was back in a matter of seconds, raising a trashcan in reply before setting it down next to the bed. “Just in case.”

Jack groaned and buried his head in the pillow. “Don’t remind me.”

He watched as she let her hair down and slipped out of her shoes. Then he moved over to make space so she could lie down next to him. “Now this”, he mumbled, “is highly inappropriate.”

“Oh, very”, she said as she turned to face him. Her fingers found his hair again and he sighed. “How are you feeling?”

“Horrible.” He closed his eyes as the ship was lifted high by yet another wave. “Feel sick. And my head hurts.”

“Poor Jack.” She shifted so she could place one hand on his stomach, slowly moving it in circles while the other kept carding through his hair. “Does that help any?”

He hummed in reply without opening his eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” She leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead. “Try to get some sleep.”

She stayed awake, watching over him while Jack fell into an uneasy slumber, shifting and groaning as the ship moved around them. It only lasted for about half an hour, when Jack woke up suddenly to empty the contents of his stomach into the wisely-placed trashcan. She rubbed his back as he coughed and shuddered underneath her hand, shirt damp with sweat, mumbling sweet nothings until the worst was over.

“Do you regret it now?” he asked hoarsely as he accepted the glass of water she had brought.

“No”, she said simply. “Actually, it’s not so bad.”

He grimaced. “Speak for yourself.”

“I would have felt worse to know you were miserable somewhere without me.” She took the glass he handed back to her and set it down on the nightstand. “In fact, I’m going to go and empty this”, she lifted up the trashcan with dainty fingers, “while you rest.”

He let himself sink back into the mattress. “I love you”, he mumbled.

She cast a look back at him over her shoulder on her way to the door. “You better!”


End file.
